Asking the Right Question
by Sir Cameron Dragic
Summary: The life and times of our favorite conspiracy theorist after the ending of Justice League Unlimited. Join the Question, Huntress, Green Arrow, and Black Canary as they struggle to uncover the truth behind a massive plot that involves the entire Justice League in a in world threatening war. An adventure told from the Question's paranoid and often slanted point of view.


**Just an idea that's popped into my head after rewatching some old episodes of Justice League Unlimited. So, just for reference, this is based on the Justice League Unlimited animated series and takes place after its conclusion. **

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Chapter 1

What is a conspiracy, really? In legal terms, it refers to an implicit agreement between different parties to collaborate on a crime in the future. Or, in more general terms, it is two people planning a crime beforehand. However, to the general public, the definition of a conspiracy is quite different. The conspiracies that people speak of are more or less theories that try to explain the truth behind meaningful events, be it the inconsistencies with the JFK assassination, or the truth behind Baskin Robbin's 32 flavors of ice cream.

Some say that I'm crazy for tying myself up in these theories, and I've been accused of insanity on more than one occasion, but such is the price to pay for true knowledge. When Copernicus introduced the notion of a heliocentric universe, rather than a geocentric one, the church was afraid of his radical thoughts, and when his theories were introduced to the rest of Europe, they were frightening in their implications. However, in time, it was gradually accepted, and has become the norm, something that I doubt either the Catholic Church or Copernicus himself could have foreseen.

So how does that relate to me? Am I obsessed with proving the truth behind my ideas? Well, the answer, more or less, is yes. I am interested in the truth, and the truth alone. That interest and thirst for knowledge led me to initially turn to journalism. I mean, what other field of work could be better suited to my goals?

But as time passed, it was clear that the legal system of this country is meant to allow for only the most sterilized form of news to come out to the public. Any time I managed to make a true discovery, it was deemed illegal, or too shocking to be printed and sold to the public. The name Vic Sage was well known throughout Hub City as the identity of a crackpot, who didn't know when to stop snooping.

Of course, now as the Question, I don't have to worry about any sort of reputation I have. Hidden behind my mask, no one knows my true face, and only a handful know about my illicit activities as a vigilante seeking the truth. Well actually, that's not entirely accurate anymore.

Ever since I joined the Justice League, things have changed, ever so slightly. I can't really call myself a loner anymore because, well, it just isn't true now. Sure, I'm generally avoided by the majority of the heroes around the Watchtower, mostly due to my reputation as a nut, but hey, I don't really mind. It's not like most of them are cerebral enough to understand the finer intricacies of my findings anyways, with most of my peers preferring to punch a hole through a wall than to ask questions as to why the wall was there in the first place.

Still, I suppose that such acts appeal to the public more, which explained why my recent string of cases were…less than exciting, to say the least.

"Well, Mrs. Davis, I have reason to believe that, in fact, your cat is hiding within your closet, possibly as a part of Petco's plot to use animals as covert spies for the CIA. They've been doing so ever since the start of the Cold War, when new and improved forms of weeding out enemy spies were deemed necessary by the US government." I explained to the elderly lady as I opened up said closet, with a ball of white fur jumping out at me immediately as I did so.

With a grunt of effort, I put my right arm in front of me, allowing the cat to dig its claws into my blue trench coat, which I just had patched up, I might add, before I picked it up by its neck so that it could not try to attack me any further, handing it to a grateful Mrs. Davis.

"Well, I can't see any obvious signs of physical alterations, but I would still be wary of discussing important matters around him. You never know who's listening." I helpfully added as I adjusted my fedora, my work done for the time being.

The gray haired woman gave me an appreciative nod, "Thank you so much, Mr. Batman!"

"Err." I stopped short, about to retort, but I stopped myself. There really wasn't much use in arguing with an old woman about this topic. Never mind the fact that I had nothing in common with him aside from a set of keen observation skills and a knack for putting two and two together. But sure, I guess the uninformed could mix us up from time to time, different as we were. And really, I should take the fact that I was mistaken for a billionaire playboy as a compliment, as long as I ignored the connection between Wayne and the plot to use Gotham as a cesspool of government experimentation.

"Sure." I managed, shoving my hands in my pockets and activating my communicator, glad not to pursue the topic any more than necessary.

"Beam me up, Scottie." I quipped as I felt the numbing sensation of my body dematerializing. It was still freaky to experience, and on more than one occasion, I had looked into the possibility that the sensation had come as a result of some secret plot of the original seven to closely monitor all of the members of the expanded Justice League. As of now, I had run into nothing but dead ends, but the case was still far from being closed, at least as far as my files are concerned.

"Haha. Real funny." I heard the deep voice of Mr. Terrific reply sarcastically to my comment as I rematerialized, feeling my body acclimate itself to its new surroundings of the JLA Watchtower. Is it really my fault that some people can't appreciate a good Star Trek reference?

"Please, I'll be at the comedy club from nine to eleven on weeknights." I replied as I gave a little bow, knowing that it would infuriate the short tempered genius more than usual. I liked having fun with some of my fellow members, and Mr. Terrific was just too easy of a target for me.

I saw him open his mouth, no doubt ready to unleash a tirade onto me, but I silenced him by turning heel and walking away from the teleportation pad towards the commissary, where I planned to buy myself a lunch and hopefully catch up on some of the events I had missed out on with my earlier mission.

I passed by several other heroes, who gave me wary glances before moving on to their destinations, doing their best to avoid opening contact with me. I said earlier that I was no longer a loner, with a small group of friends and confidants to call my own, but that didn't change the fact that, to the large majority of residents of the Watchtower, I was still very much a pariah.

"Hey Question, you going to grab some grub?"

I nodded, having recognized who it was instantly, without even having to turn around.

Green Arrow, real name, Oliver Queen, a billionaire who sold his company to work as a vigilante armed with, what else, a bow and a slew of inventive arrows. Said vigilante was currently behind me, and slapped one of his sizeable hands onto my shoulder, causing me to wince slightly in pain at the force at which he had slapped it with. He was a large man, with significantly more muscle mass than myself, and with a gregarious personality that made him far more personable than me.

Naturally, we drew a couple of stares, as two heroes with such different personalities and physical statures normally would not associate with each other, and that was before mentioning his socialistic political views that contrasted heavily with my own conservative point of view. But maybe that difference is exactly why we had been able to work together in the past on some more covert operations that usually involved our respective partners.

Speaking of which…

"Look, you just got a couple of lucky shots in, all right?"

"Oh? I wasn't aware that a sound beating was classified as only a 'couple of lucky shots.'"

From beside me, Ollie sighed as we heard the distinctive sound of two very proud, and very stubborn women bickering with each other about God knows what.

"Here come our better halves." He whispered in my ear as Huntress and Black Canary stopped in their current argument to acknowledge our presence.

"Q, how was the mission?" Helena Bertinelli, the daughter of a former mobster turned costumed vigilante, also known as the Huntress, asked me. We had first met when she had requested my help on a mission concerning Steven Madragora, the murderer of her parents, and since then, we've worked together on several more occasions, up until the point where the Justice League offered to reinstate her, an offer that she had originally refused, before accepting after the whole mess with Cadmus was finished. Oh, and she was my current girlfriend. That might be an important detail to mention.

"Fine. I think I've made some progress in connecting Petco to the ending of the Cold War." I replied, stiffening as she entered my close proximity, with a glowing appearance, courtesy of her skin being slick with sweat. She had clearly just come from training, likely with Black Canary, otherwise known as her rival and personal enemy in life.

Black Canary, civilian name Dinah Lance. She has the ability to emit an ultrasonic scream to incapacitate her opponents, along with a high degree of skill in various martial arts. In addition, she also has the incredible ability to anger my girlfriend with her very appearance. In her defense though, she does have quite the appearance, with that wavy blonde hair and revealing outfits, not that I would prefer her over Helena, who has a body that was just as curvaceous, if not more so. Besides, I'm kind of a sucker for brunettes, since I have an inherent distrust of blondes, due to their involvement in the formation of the Illuminati, but that's a theory for another time.

As of now, both Helena and Dinah had agreed on a temporary truce in order to pay some attention to me and Ollie, a gesture that I'm sure that both of us appreciated. The blond archer gave me a look of smug satisfaction as Dinah erotically traced her fingers along his chest. Not to be outdone, Helena grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me into a searing kiss that left me a bit dazed by its ferocity and suddenness.

"Well, if this is how you two are going to settle your arguments from now on, then by all means, continue on." Ollie chuckled, receiving a light smack in the gut from Dinah, who glared at him with a look that was mixture of both embarrassment and amusement.

"Anyways, are we going to get something to eat? I'm starving." Helena interrupted, smoldering at the affectionate gestures that the couple had just displayed in front of us. No doubt she wanted me to do some of the same, but I just wasn't the romantic type. I was more of the "hole up in front of the computer for days at a time" type.

"Well, better not eat too much, unless you want to get even slower during our sparring matches." Dinah retorted, causing the crossbow wielding brunette to growl in frustration. The two started off on another argument, leaving me and Ollie to follow shortly behind from a safe distance, just in case we needed to break something up, something we had quite a bit of experience doing.

We walked into the commissary and luckily, there was no line to be seen, so I was unobstructed in my search for a ham sandwich. Why ham, you ask? Well, turkey is being used by the food companies as a tool for rewriting American history, and I couldn't possibly eat it in good conscience knowing that fact. I quickly found a table for myself, as Vigilante and Shining Knight quickly fled the scene once they noticed that I had been eyeing their table. Sometimes, being a freak, albeit, a lovable and misunderstood one had its perks.

"I don't know how you do it Q, but you always seem to find the best tables for us." Helena remarked as she sat down in one of the newly emptied seats I had reserved for our little group, with Ollie and Dinah following shortly behind, the four of us sharing a rare moment of silence as we all realized exactly how hungry we were.

I was just about to take a bite into my unwrapped sandwich when I suddenly heard a clamoring and curiously stood up out of my seat to figure out what all of the commotion was about. I had no idea at the time what was going to happen, but it was at that moment that my years of piecing together information would finally come to fruition. And it was every bit as glorious and devastating as I had both hoped and feared.

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**Please, let me know if you guys want me to continue on this story! I'm currently working on Code Sekirei, and it's taking up the majority of my time, but I think that writing this story is pretty interesting, especially with Question's paranoid and erratic point of view, so please, let me know how you guys feel about this so far in a review or PM!**


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